The Boston Fairy
by Persilchen
Summary: While Jennifer Jareau is still sorting out why the breakup with Will doesn't feel as devastating as she thought it would the team receives a call from Boston. The team as to help Boston PD track down a killer, who has already left two horrible mutilated bodies. (Yes. There will be romantic JJ/Emily. But also crime. Yay!)
1. Prologue: Once Upon A Time

**Note 1: hey friends! welcome to the first chapter of my newest JJ/Emily fic. I am - as you will notice - in desperate need of someone to Beta this thing, since I am no native speaker. So, if you like my story (so far) and if you'd like to help me out I'd be more than grateful. Otherwise you'll just have to deal with my interesting attempts on grammar.**

**Note 2: As you might have guessed by now this story will be mostly based in Boston. We might meet some characters that you know from other crime shows, but since those only have small roles I decided against filing this as crossover. I hope you don't mind.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

**THE BOSTON FAIRY**

Prologue: Once Upon a Time…

For hours she's been driving in circles now. Driving first aimlessly through the grey daylight and later – still without any destination – through the twilight and into the dark night. At least, as dark as night can get, if you are living in a big city. She took turns whenever she felt like it, circled some blocks several times, registering the smudged lights outside for a short moment, before their memory was drowned out by meaningless nothingness again.

At some point rain had started and only after it rattled angrily against the windows she had remembered to get the wipers going. She kept on driving through the night; fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, her gaze fixed into the dark. She wasn't sure how long she's been driving, when she finally came to a halt in front of an apartment building. After shutting down the engine she kept sitting in her car, hands still holding the steering wheel in an iron grip, illuminated by only one single streetlight while the world around her was silent, except for the raindrops falling onto her car in a steady rhythm.

She didn't stop to glance at the windows in front of her, just took a deep breath as she emerged from the car, slamming the door shut behind her and sprinted towards the entrance. A couple of moments later there was a soft knock on a nearby apartment door.

"Jesus, JJ, do you have any idea how late it… Jen?" If there has been one thing Emily Prentiss hasn't been expecting to happen that night, it would have been seeing Jennifer Jareau on her doorstep – dripping wet, some strands of hair falling out of a carelessly knotted bun. The usually honey-skinned woman was pale, her eyes dark in their sockets, the lips tinted in an unhealthy shade of blue. She was trembling, but didn't seem to recognize it. Emily ushered her in quickly.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, why?" JJ straightened and flashed her friend a smile as fake as it was wide. Emily, while shaking her head wasn't sure if she should feel insulted. She glanced at her watch, 1:05.

"What happened, Jennifer?"

"Nothing."

Emily sighed. By now it was clear that this was going to be a long night. Something was horribly wrong and her friend was too stubborn and proud to just spill what had happened. And she was damn sure that something had happened.

"Come on."

After JJ took of her wet shoes they moved into the condo's living room. The TV was on, but muted, flickering silent lights into the otherwise dark room.

"Discovery Channel?"

"You know, Agent Jareau, I could've had a date over here at this time of the night."

JJ let her eyes wander over her surroundings. A half eaten pizza and several scattered case files. She looked at Emily. "I don't want to meet the person you are planning to seduce with those cat patterned flannels, Agent Prentiss." Emily was looking down at herself, cursing under her breath after she realized that JJ had a point. For a moment she considered slipping into her bedroom to pull on a different pair of pants, but the damage was already done – JJ had already seen her wearing those. She sighed again as she instead wandered over into the kitchen, pulling glasses from the cupboard and rummaging for a bottle of wine.

"Again, JJ, what brings you here in the middle of the night?"

"Middle of the night. Don't be ridiculous, Em, it's only… oh."

"You really were sure that it wasn't already that late, weren't you?"

"Well of course I have known. I mean, we are grown up people. 1am isn't really that late." With a trembling hand the blond rubs her cheek in an exhausted gesture. She's had no idea how late it has been. She only remembered getting in her car, barely remembered sunset, didn't remember night at all. How long has she been sitting in front of Emily's house? How long has she been driving through the city? How has she been able to drive a car considering her condition anyway?

Emily poured herself a glass of wine and took it, along with the bottle as she strolled towards the stairs.

"Hey, where are you going? And way more important, where is the wine going?" JJ made a step in Emily's direction, staring at her with wide, wary eyes.

"The wine and I are going upstairs to fold clothes now. You can come and join us, when you've decided to stop lying to me. In vino veritas, Jen."

The younger woman stared at Emily, until she was out of sight. She let herself fall down onto the couch, eyes wandering to the still flickering TV. Pictures of rainforest, exotic animals and green, so much green blurred in front of her eyes. She picked the remote control up and pushed the red button. Damn profilers.

Emily Prentiss took a sip of wine and neatly folded a sweater. In her head she counted the minutes, as she took another sip and folded another piece of clothing. JJ was late. She had expected her to stand of the other side of the door, demanding more wine, five minutes ago. Another sip of wine and another folded sweater later she flinched, when someone softly knocked at her door. That was new.

"Come in." With her back still facing the door, she pulled another sweatshirt from the pile. The room was silent. Then – suddenly – a quiet voice.

"Will left me. Just packed his things and left."

Emily didn't need more than three steps until she had JJ in her arms, holding her tight, but the blond was just standing there. No sobbing, no crying.

"I am sorry. What happened?"

"He said it is because I became a Profiler. He didn't feel manly enough anymore. Didn't feel good enough anymore. Didn't feel happy in DC from the beginning. Am distant, cold." The room fell into silence again. A single tear rolled down Emily's cheek as she repeatedly stroked through JJ's still damp hair.

"Then he's seeing a different person than I do."

Slowly, oh so slowly JJ laid her head on Emily's shoulder and closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter 1 - Lesley Gunner's Bad Day

**Chapter 1**

**Lesley Gunner's Bad Day**

Lesley Gunner's day has been awful. The night has been horrible. Fuck this! His whole life was one terrible piece of shit. He spits out noisily, while staggering over wet grass, trying not to lose balance. Why was the ground swaying treacherously anyhow? Had even the goddamn ground started to plot against him? He doesn't know how he's got here, doesn't even know where "here" exactly was in the first place. He only remembers waking up not too long ago, with a bladder so full, he was sure it would burst soon. Very soon! The thing was – he didn't wake up in his bed, but in some bushes. Some wet and cold bushes. Plus it smelled like vomit. Lots of vomit. Damnit. Who the hell had vomited on him? His clothes felt clammy from the morning dew, but with some effort he managed to get up and – while keeping himself somewhat upright with the help of a tree – urinate mostly onto his pant-leg.

He squinted his eyes, wrinkled his nose and blinked into the rising sun. Where did his buddies go? He patted down his pants. Where was his purse? He had no idea where he or his money were, or what time it was, but he knew one thing as sure as he knew that his name was Lesley Gunner and not Roger Rabbit: He needed a goddamn drink. So he had started to walk. Somewhere a drink was waiting to soothe his headache. Like… a beer! He grinned at that thought, spit running down his chin unnoticed. Yes, a beer would definitely be a fine choice! And then the goddamn ground had started the fucking swaying.

"Fuck", he grunts, "I just want a goddamn drink for my headache!" His gaze drops down, concentrating intensely on his feet and the rioting ground beneath them, while he spreads his arms wide in a desperate attempt not to fall over. The next time he looks up he finds himself several feet in front of a small lake.

"Oh fuck this." He groans again. "Where 'm I going to get a drink now?" His arms drop to his sides again, as he stands in front of the water, swaying slightly, trying to work out a solution for this tricky drink problem. He needs a break. Yes! A break would be the best idea now. Sit down, think about the problem. First a break, then a drink! Back to work refreshed! He grins and gives the sun the finger. "I'll just sit down here a little while." He staggers a few more steps until he lets himself flop down onto the moist lake shore. Hopefully he wasn't sitting down in duck poo. He rubs his scrubby chin. Duck poo on the pants. He cackles. Just a teeny tiny break. Then he falls back over and starts to snore immediately.

* * *

"Em! Your phone!" JJ groans, pressing a pillow over her head, hoping that she might be able to ban the shrill ringing noise from her cozy and drowsy world.

"No. Don't wanna." The brunette whines trying to wrestle the pillow out of her friends hand to bury herself underneath it.

"Your phone! I wanna sleep!"

"Headache. Give me the pillow!" But JJ holds it with a vice-like grip in its place above her head. "Okay. Okay. I am coming. I am coming. Where is that goddamn phone?" She fumbles blindly for the phone on the nightstand to her left and finally grabs the still ringing device. There is a short silence in the room.

"Prentiss." Several moments later she is sitting bolt upright in her bed, suddenly feeling very awake. "Yes, sir. No, sir. She is with me, sir. We've reviewed a couple of case files last night, sir. She must have left her phone in her car. No, sir. We'll be there as fast as possible!" She presses the red button and gives JJ a kick to the spot where she supposed her shin would be under the covers. "Wheels up in 40. We're heading to Boston. Hotch tried to reach you for twenty minutes – right now he's not very amused.

Slowly JJ lets the pillow slide from her face, looking a little sick. "What time is it?"

"Seven fifteen."

"And when did we go to bed?"

"Uh… five.. thirty?"

"How much wine did we drink?"

Emily shifts to peek down next to her bed and shivers. "Don't ask. Just… don't ask." Slowly, minding her headache she climbs out of bed and slightly stretches, before stripping off her shirt mindlessly. "I'll start the coffee while you take a shower." A routine both of them adopted and took comfort in during all those times they shared rooms when they were out of town for a case. Emily, in harsh contrast to JJ has always been a morning person. But while she was usually the one wide awake and ready for all the things to come, JJ would always need a mug of coffee to get over her usual morning-grumpiness. And Emily likes doing those small things for her friend. Likes getting the coffee started, likes the sound of the shower and loves the grateful smile on her friend's face, when she takes the offered mug, while Emily herself sets of the bath to get ready. Always grateful. And something else.

"Em?" JJ's voice brings her back to the here and now.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you stripping, when you wanted to make coffee?"

Emily looks down at her bra. "I have no idea."

* * *

_**AN: okay a short chapter, but this was just merely the overture. once we'll dive into the case I promise to post longer ones :) I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed thinking it up!** _


	3. Chapter 2 - Wheels Up!

**Chapter 2**

**Wheels Up!**

Twenty minutes later a swearing Jennifer Jareau is leaning against the trunk of her car. "Shit. Shit. SHIT!" She kicks one of the wheels and yelps when a strong flash of pain rushes up her leg. A moment later she also holds her still hung-over head.

"Jayje, what's going on?" Emily, who left the house after her, looks over her shoulder and into the trunk.

"Don't you see it?"

"See what? I don't see a thing." She takes another look into the car and shrugs, not sure what her friend wants her to see.

"Yeah. Not a damn thing. My go-bag is at Quantico. I forgot my goddamn go-bag. I don't have time to either go home or go there to pick my stuff up. I have to arrange a sitter for Henry. And we have to meet the others in twenty minutes. This is a fucking nightmare." Trembling with exhaustion she leans her head against the cool surface of the car.

Emily thinks for a moment, than places a friendly hand on the blonde's shoulder and smiles at her. "You go, make yourself comfortable in my car and try to call Pen or arrange something else for Henry while I go back up and pack a couple of my things for you to wear, deal?"

JJ turns to look at her friend. "You don't have to, Em. I fucked up, big time on my own and now I have to deal with it." She rubs her temples trying to focus on the tasks ahead.

"I know that I don't have to. But I want to. Don't look at me like that Jayje. It's okay to ask for help and as long as you're not ready to do so, I'll offer. Now go. Find a place for Henry to stay and don't worry about the clothes."

Too choked up to form an answer JJ nods, locks her car and walks towards the parking lot, while Emily again disappears into the building.

* * *

They are the last arriving at the airstrip and boarding the plane. JJ is still on her phone as she slumps down on her regular seat inside the small jet and Emily shoves her bag into a compartment below it.

"Blondie is traveling light today." Morgan jokes, spotting the missing of the familiar blue bag the young woman usually travels with.

Emily pulls down her sunglasses, glancing with red eyes at her friend. "Don't mention it buddy. Just… please don't."

"Wow. You two look like shit!" He exclaims, taking the seat opposite of Emily. "Rough night?"

"Please. Don't. Mention. It!"

He lifts his hands in defeat. "Okay. I'm sorry. Bad timing."

"Thank you." She flashes him a tired smile, making herself comfortable next to the blond.

"Yeah. All right. Thank you mom. I'll call you later." JJ ends her call and shuts her phone down for the take-off. She throws the device on the table, groaning loudly. "This is a fucking nightmare. Hey Morgan."

Due to the short time the team's going to spend in the air, Hotch starts the briefing the moment , the plane evens out.

"Lieutenant Cavanaugh from the Boston Police Department called me this morning and asked for help. They found two dead bodies within a period of three days and are afraid they caught themselves a serial killer, who is just about to warm up." He clicks on his laptop and the pictures of two young women pop up.

"First victim's name is Lauren Peterson. She was found Tuesday morning on a bench in Ramsay Park near Schroeder Plaza. A passerby found her early in the morning. She seemed to be asleep but it soon showed that she was dead. Her tongue was later found black – arsenic." He clicks and her image zooms in, showing a laughing, brunette woman in her late thirties. He clicks again. "The second victim, Theresa Douglas was found this morning by a drunk at the edge of Boston Common Garden's lake."

"Arsenic again?" Rossi asks, leaning towards the screen to study Theresa Douglas features.

"No, not arsenic. Knowing how we work best Lieutenant Cavanaugh send me the file, but didn't tell me the cause of death."

"How did they link those two deaths? I mean: Theresa obviously isn't older than in her early twenties. There's no outward semblance. Did they know each other?" Reid asks, also leaning in to get a better look at the picture in front of him.

"Boston PD is checking backgrounds on both of the women, so far we know about nothing, but –" he clicks again and a smeared piece of paper pops up on the screen "they found this message on both women."

"I shall not lie." JJ reads out loud furrowing her brows. "The unsub believes she is telling lies, so he poisons her with arsenic that colors her tongue black?"

"Possibly." Morgan nods. "Do we know how she was poisoned?"

Hotch shakes his head. "Boston PD is investigating. They called us early in this- which, in my eyes, is a good thing. Three days are a very short period of time between murders and there are many blank spots right now; let's hit this one running! They have secured the perimeter and hold the body for us until we arrive. Dave I want you to talk to the lead detectives. Reid, scan the perimeter and have a look at the surroundings. JJ and Prentiss will talk to the gentleman who found the body this morning. Morgan, you and I will take a look at the body. Now use the thirty minutes until we land to relax. We'll head out to the crime scene ASAP. Any questions?"

There aren't any, so they make themselves comfortable to bask a little in the silence before the storm. JJ who was on the phone on the other end of the plane comes back into the sitting area, tapping Hotch on the shoulder.

"I have a problem Hotch."

"What's wrong JJ?" Of course he had already noticed the fatigue in the blonde's features, her uneasiness and the unusual silence in which she had sat through most of the briefing. You didn't need a profiler for that.

"Henry. No. Sorry. That sounds horrible." She rubs her temples. "If we aren't back to DC before Monday I have to leave the team early. I can't find a place for Henry to stay."

"I thought Will wasn't doing night shifts anymore?"

"Will…" She hesitates but catches herself quickly. "Had to fly out yesterday on short notice. Henry is with my parents right now, but both of them have to be back at work on Monday. I tried everyone I know, Hotch. I wouldn't do this, if there was another way. I'm sorry." She glances at her boss, a small, apologetic smile that doesn't reach her eyes on her lips.

"That's okay JJ. I'd hate to lose you on the investigation but your son should always be your first priority."

"Yes." She looks down at her feet, feeling like being in free fall. "Yes, he always will be."

* * *

At the airport they are greeted by two Boston PD officers, who are detailed to escort them to Boston Common Gardens. Due to her spontaneous leaving and fast arrival at Boston, the local field office hasn't yet managed to provide them with the requested cars.

As they split up for the police cruisers Emily and JJ end up on the backseat while Morgan sits in front next to their escorting officer.

"Can't remember when I last sat in the back of one of these." JJ states feeling slightly uneasy at the nonexistent opportunity for a quick, if necessary exit.

"I am not sure I ever did." Emily mumbles, checking her surroundings.

"Are you kidding me? Not even in training?"

"Well not in an American one anyway."

"Yeah, Princess only rides in the back of something that has "stretch" as part of its name." Morgan chimes in from the front.

"Oh hush!"

A couple of moments later the officer pulls into the south entrance of Boston Common Gardens, stopping right in front of the distinctive yellow crime scene-tape, flapping in the fresh morning breeze. They thank him for the ride and are shortly after greeted by another officer, who shakes their hands, before holding up the tape to let them through.

"Officer Rizzoli, you must be the FBI folks from Washington." As they nod he continues. "Detective Crow send me out to get you."

"Is it far?" Emily asks, throwing her mostly empty paper cup of coffee into a nearby trashcan. She blinks into the bright morning sun and puts her shades on quickly as it sends jolts of pain through her skull. Never again she would drink alcohol again. Never.

"No. The body was found on the east side of the lake a little bit north from where we are now."

Thinking about floaters JJ frowns. A gesture she quickly regrets as another wave of pain shots down her neck and shoulders. Never would she drink alcohol again. Never.

"What can you tell us so far, Officer?" Hotch asks the young man leading them down a gentle slope and into an area that buzzes with police action. Officers, detectives, crime-techs, the medical examiner and his assistants – the whole circus was having a show at the side of this small lake on an early Friday morning.

Minding his step, Rizzoli pulls out a small notebook and opens it to a marked page. "At 6:03 one of our patrol cars was stopped by a frantically waving man at Boylston Street. He had alcoholic breath but was insisting that he had found a dead body on the edge of the lake. Mister Gunner seemed to be slightly confused and disoriented but after some searching the officers found what seemed to be the dead body of a young woman. Mister Gunner insists that – and here I quote: he has nothing to do with this goddamnit, he didn't do a fucking goddamn thing, he just wanted to take a 'lil nap goddamnit and there ain't nothing wrong with that, goddamnit."

Morgan grins. "What a charmer!"

"Oh just wait until you meet him, I'm sure you'll be delighted!" When they reach the crowd he stops and waves over to a big black man in a crisply pressed suit. He comes over with long, confident steps, making his way through the crown with ease.

"You must be Agent Hotch and the people from Washington. I am glad to see you. We caught ourselves a sick bastard and sure as hell can use every help we can get." As easily as he has made his way through the crowd, he had picked the other alpha-male and identified Hotch as the team leader. "I am Detective Crow, my partner, Detective Kruger is on the phone right now but will accompany us as soon as possible." Some quick introductions are made and hands are shaken.

Hotch nods at the detective, delighted at how glad he is to have the team as helping instrument on this case but also concerned. Things are usually bad, if the locals are that cooperative at this early stage of the case. He gives him a grim but encouraging smile. "We'd like to split up to get as much ground covered as quickly as we can." He explains to Crow the next few steps ahead along with the things they'll require at the police station later on. Crow takes notes and waves for Officer Rizzoli afterwards.

"If you need anything just holler. Rizzoli here will accompany Agent Reid, he knows this turf."

And with that, the team parts.


	4. Chapter 3 - Jennifer Jareau's Bad Day

**Chapter 3**

**Jennifer Jareau's Bad Day**

"Oh, no." Morgan sighs as he kneels down in the grass, still damp from the morning dew. He pulls on light blue latex gloves, looking down at the young blond woman, whose lower half still lies in the pond and whose chalk white face rests on its left cheek in the grass. He tilts his own head towards the officer guarding the body, only making out a shadow against the glaring morning light. "Did Mr. Gunner move her?"

"No, Sir. He said he was so shocked, he jumped to his feet and ran towards the street to get help. Afterwards he noticed that he had also wet his pants."

"Won't hold that against him. I'm pretty sure I'd wet myself if I woke up with a dead face staring at me."

Slowly Hotch and another man in a suit with receding hair and an impressive mustache are approaching the scene. He stops next to Morgan and introduces the other man as Detective Kruger, Crow's partner. He then bends down himself, pulling on gloves as he does.

"She looks peaceful." He carefully lifts some of the blond hair - anxious not to move the body before the Medical Examiner arrives at the scene - and examines her neck. He then stands, his knees popping as he stretches them, and walks around the body. "No signs of damage by external force. No blood, no strangulation marks, no bruises on the exposed extremities at all."

"Well, except for… the message." Gently, Morgan strokes back some hair from her forehead exposing the letters carved into her skin. "I shall not lie. Maybe our unsub drugged her and threw her into the water."

"Let's not make assumptions until the Medical Examiner arrived and we'll know for sure." Hotch reminds the younger man, who still kneels in front of the victim, shaking his head. He turns towards Kruger again. "How did you ID her?"

The older man shrugs. "Drivers license was in her blouse's front pocket, along with some bills. We didn't move anything though, Doctor Isles is very peculiar about those things and we didn't want to risk a lecture concerning "securing evidence". Again."

"I understand Doctor Isles is the Medical Examiner? Why isn't he here, yet? I've seen the morgue van on our way down here."

"We were only able to reach her recently. Forgot her phone in her car while staying with a friend with a broken leg."

Morgan comes to his feet next to his boss and laughs. "Well that seems to be today's theme!"

* * *

The morning light is glaring down at them, as Emily and JJ leave the crime scene and head towards a nearby park bench. Before they had left the car, both of them had popped some painkillers to stop the worst throbbing in their heads.

"You should've stopped me from drinking all that wine." JJ complains as they slowly walk down the path.

"You threatened to cut my hair while I was asleep if I didn't give you the bottle." Emily reminds her dryly. After JJ had told Emily about Will's leaving, they had stood in Emily's bedroom for some time, JJ clinging onto her friend, but not crying. They had settled down onto her bed and silently emptied the first bottle – neither of them knowing what to say, but both of them enjoying the company. Apart from her confession concerning Will's leave she didn't mention the man again and Emily didn't want to pry. At least not then. You didn't need to be a profiler to see that JJ was in shock right now and instead of deepening her sorrow she went for being supportive. It would be wrong to say that Emily had disliked Will from the first time they've met – quite contrary. She liked the quiet and polite man, found his southern behavior quite charming and enjoyed the respectful way in which he approached the team. But… Yes, but she didn't like seeing him with JJ. Afraid of making a fool out of herself for voicing her concerns she swallowed them down. Who was she to judge the relationship between them. Apart from that: JJ seemed to be happy. Mostly. Who was she to judge. So she didn't judge when JJ was standing in front of her apartment in the middle of the night and she sure as hell wasn't going to tell her the all time favorite: "I told you so." Because she didn't and even if she had, she wouldn't. She cared for her friend. Her friend. Right. There would be nights in that she would sit in the bathtub, pushing the balls of her hands into her eyes, sobbing silently. Those nights had happened in the past and she was able to cope with them. And right now JJ needed a friend and not a jealous cynic. So they had drunken the wine in silence, and after the silence had lasted long enough but neither of them wanted to break the calm in which they'd been sitting, JJ asked Emily to tell her some stories from her time at boarding schools. There was more wine, there was even laughter and in the drunken haze that drifted through her head, Emily made the resolution to destroy whoever dared to rob Jennifer Jareau of her clear laughter and those sparkling eyes.

JJ stops and gives her friend a side look. "I didn't."

"Yeah. You did."

She ponders on that for a moment and then nods. "Okay. Yeah. I might have."

They start walking again, straightening up and smoothing down their blazers, as they approach the shabby looking man in his fifties on the bench.

"Wow, he looks like his night has been worse than ours." Emily mumbles, putting on a business like smile. He was wearing a light brown suit that has been in style probably ten years ago and moreover is also at least two sizes too big for its owner. The formerly white shirt is now patterned with a wide variety of different colored, dried stains – there are tiny pieces sticking to some of them. The greasy, grey-streaked hair sticks out to all sides and a remarkable five o'clock shadow darkens his face below his red rimmed eyes. For a short moment Emily regrets the fact, that she didn't put on gloves before approaching the man. But she catches herself and instead stretches out her hand to greet him.

"I assume you are Mr. Gunner, right?"

"Well, you're assuming mighty right, lady."

"I am Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss and this is my partner SSA Jennifer Jareau." JJ also extends her hand and cringes inwardly when her hand keeps slightly stuck on something on the man's palm.

"I've already talked to the police. I didn't do nothing. Listen lady: I just wanna go home!"

"We are with the FBI and just like to ask you a couple of questions. One of the officers will see you home then. I promise it won't take long." JJ flashes him her best Press Liaison smile.

"Goddamnit! I'm in pain and you keep me here! Like a prisoner!" Gunner hits his fist with a flat hand and glares with bloodshot eyes at the two agents. "My head is killing me! Killing me!"

"The Medical Examiner will be here in a moment, maybe he can give you…" JJ started.

"The corpse doc? Nope! Go away! You'll be sorry if you'll get him near me! Nope! I'm not dead! You hear me? I am not dead! I won't take shit like that from you! All I need is a drink! A goddamn drink! No one here will get me a drink! I'd feel a lot better, if someone'd get me a drink!"

The police officer, who accompanied Lesley while he was waiting for the FBI puts a heavy hand down on his shoulder to stop him from jumping up and keeps him down on the bench. But even though he keeps him down, a heavy wave of foul and alcoholic breath hits JJ as she takes a cautious step backwards. In combination with the urine-soaked pants and the stained suit, the smell adds up to a very intense combination. JJ gags audible.

Emily decides to try her luck to deescalate the situation. "Mr. Gunner – did anyone offer you some clean pants?"

"Now what's wrong with my pants? You wanna rob me off my pants? I'm sittin' here, suffering and you wanna rob me off my pants? I want a drink!"

At the mention of the drink JJ gags again. Memories of the enormous amount of wine consumed during the last night flash in front of her eyes in bright colors. Her headache begins to pulse in time with them. "If only he could stop talking about drinks." She mumbles into Emily's ear. But Emily isn't about to give up the subject, yet.

"Mr. Gunner, we…"

"That's police harassment! Help. HELP! I'm being held against my will! I'm being declined my human rights! I WANT A DRINK!" Again he ties to jump up, but as the officer brings down his hand on his shoulder this time it slips off and instead grabs the back of his collar. Like in slow motion, JJ sees the fabric of the shirt stretch until the first buttons fly off to reveal a hirsute chest. She turns on her heels, sprinting towards the next trashcan, reaching it just in time to throw up.

"Enough! Enough!" Emily shouts at Gunner. She points an angry finger at the recalcitrant witness. "Officer, please take him to the police station and get him into a drying-out cell! We'll continue this, once he's right minded again! And get rid of those clothes for Chrissake!"

"I just want a…"

Emily takes another angry step towards him, the finger still raised and pointing in a threatening manner. The sun's reflections on her dark hair match the angry spark in her eyes and let the man shut up immediately; she looks more like an Amazon than a police woman. "If I hear the word "drink" one more time…" She doesn't end the sentence, but instead lets the threat hang in the air unspoken. She gives the smirking officer a nod and casually walks towards JJ, who by now has retreated from the trashcan and stands on the path, taking deep breaths.

"Not a single word, Emily Prentiss. I warn you! Not a word!"


End file.
